


Thicker than water

by NatalieRyan



Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: 2x11 episode tag, Beating, Bleeding, Blood, Blood Loss, Day 10, Gen, Hurt Mac, Mac Whump, Mac gets shot, Whump, Whumptober 2020, Worried Jack, with a different twist while Mac was still in custody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26936206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NatalieRyan/pseuds/NatalieRyan
Summary: And then Jack saw him.More like he saw the blood.Jack gasped at the sight. Mac wasn't moving.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Whumptober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948579
Comments: 15
Kudos: 79
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Thicker than water

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in mind for some time before I even contemplated writing it for Whumptober. Back then, I had no idea in which direction I was going to take it, I just knew that I had to have Mac shot.   
> (Because we all saw how vulnerable he was in this ep right when Hector Ruiz aimed his gun at Mac when Mac threw the dart and took cover).   
> So, I mentioned the idea in the discord server I'm in, and my lovely partners in whumping suggested I had Mac roughed up a bit before getting shot, and one thing I am is being weak in the face of more whumping. And I did it. That way you get slightly divergent 2x11 episode tag + Mac whump.   
> Thanks to N1ghtshade for brainstorming with me when I was figuring out stuff, and for reading this through for me. Can't say thanks enough, so you are going to have to take this broken record thing where I repeat the same things often, sorry :**  
> Enjoy!

Mac kept looking at the table, the cuffs rattling whenever he moved his wrists a bit to tease the hold. 

_ If he just had a paperclip… _

But that wouldn't have solved any of his problems. He would have gotten himself into bigger trouble, and he knew his team would follow right through, he wasn't going to be the cause for his friends and family to go on the run for him. They absolutely would, hell they would be the ones to break him out. But that wasn't a life he looked forward to living if there was any other option available. 

He shuddered at the thought of his undercover stint in Bishop Correctional a year ago, and the thought of ending there again, in a prison of all places, shook him to his core. 

Mac stared at the table some more. By now he had the length and width calculated and he counted just how many scratches there were on the surface, and in how many places the paint was chipped. 

The clock was ticking and even though he now knew that he wasn't guilty, that there was a way to prove his innocence, he still felt dreadful in the face of finding the proof. 

_ Where was Jack? _

Mac was afraid to think about what would happen if Jack and the team didn't succeed. He was already too long into this box, in this interrogation room that just added to his rising anxiety. He was far from claustrophobic, but Mac started to feel as if he was gonna suffocate the longer he stayed in that room. 

Mac was restless on a good day. And today was nowhere remotely on the good side. 

Mac took a deep breath, held it in, and exhaled. He repeated the action several times until he calmed his beating heart. But even that didn't last for long and his thoughts strayed again. 

He felt like the walls were gonna close in on him. 

And then the door opened.

Mac was still looking at the table, not wanting to reveal his smug face when the detectives saw Jack come through the door to get him out. Well not exactly Jack, but Roger Preston. And he didn't want them to add more things to the pile they already disliked about him if the way they spoke about him was any indicator. They would be more than happy to slap heavier cuffs on him and dress him in an orange jumpsuit. 

When he finally looked up, he only saw Greer and Turner come in and as Turner guarded the door, Greer uncuffed him and just tugged at him forcefully. Mac could feel the pull and the strength behind the touch and then he was cuffed again and  _ yanked _ . 

Mac didn't like where things were going, but he was unable to muster up the courage to ask what they were going to do to him. 

_ Where were they taking him? _

“You see, that lawyer friend of yours looks like he's no lawyer at all, Mr. MacGyver.” Detective Turner spoke up as they led Mac down the hall and then they turned left. 

Mac felt like his feet were leaden and that he moved by sheer force of not stopping for nothing. He was sure that if he did, it would have been the wrong thing to do. 

“Here's what I think,” it was Greer this time. “You are probably planning another attack. My best guess is that Mr. Preston is your partner. It was a mistake we let you talk with him. Who knows what you told him, hm?”

Mac knew that whatever he was going to say it would be of no use. He was guilty of what they blamed him for in their eyes.

_ Damned if I do, damned if I don't. _

“Move, MacGyver, we don't have all day.” It was Turner again and he shoved Mac forward. Mac stumbled and accidentally hit the wall. He would have fallen, but Turner and Greer were both holding him upright. 

“I told you not where there are cameras.” Greer hissed, and Turner looked like a scolded child. 

Mac was now petrified.  _ What were they planning to do to him that would require no cameras? _

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry, my bad.”

They carefully walked him between them to the basement. 

Mac could see building materials, and tools all over the place, there was plaster dust everywhere and tarp covering something Mac couldn't see. 

Once the door was closed and it made a click behind him, Mac felt like it was final. 

…

The first hit came out as a surprise and Mac yelped. He didn't know what to expect when he was escorted to the basement, but not this. Although he had known torture and how people usually used violence to pull out information from people. And at that moment Mac was a suspected arsonist and a domestic terrorist and he was sure they'd do everything they thought it would work in their favor and make Mac talk. 

But what no one knew about these things was that after a while, people would say anything just to get out of the situation. And even if they gave out the information the person wanted, it still didn't mean that they wouldn't ask for more. So however Mac turned it, the situation ended with him getting the shit beat out of him. And he didn't want to think about it, but it was hard not to. 

_ What if he died in the basement of a police station? Would his team be able to find him in time and prevent that, or were they going to find a body and wouldn't be given answers? _

Jack would know, though. Jack would  _ always _ know. 

Mac stifled a scream as one of the kicks hit a tender spot behind his knee, and another to his thigh where he stabbed himself with the scissors to prevent the spreading of the VX through his body a few weeks ago. 

They stopped all of a sudden and circled him like vultures circle their prey. Their faces were intimidating and if Mac didn't know any better than to keep his mouth shut, he was ready to use the secret agent card. Not that they were going to believe him. 

“You are smart, MacGyver. Too smart for your own good. Now, I know that you won't say anything unless you were motivated enough, but I just want you to know, we won't stop.” Greer spit the words like venom on his tongue. 

“I don't think he'll tell us anything.” 

“We are not going to give up. He will do it, sooner or later.” 

Mac wanted to laugh with the irony of the situation. It was far from the worst beating he got and between torture resistance training and being actually captured and tortured, Mac had a high pain threshold. 

But he was also kept into custody for the better part of the night and next day and they didn't let him sleep or eat or drink. He was hungry and probably heading towards dehydration. So every hit felt like it was something burning him through his clothes. 

The next hit made an audible crack and between Mac's panting breaths and the swish of clothes in the air as Mac was kicked repeatedly, Mac just knew what it was. His rib gave in under the pressure of the swift kick and another one as the next kick caught him in the same place. His whole left side was in agony, drawing a breath was too painful and Mac ended up gasping.

There was a commotion in front of the door and for a moment Mac thought it was Jack and the team. But suddenly everything was silent until someone forcefully opened the door. And by forcefully, Mac meant someone shooting it off its hinges. 

Turner yelped as he took cover and Greer followed suit. That left Mac out in the open, lying on the floor, in pain and unprotected. 

_ He couldn't afford to stay lying around, dangerous things happened when he was on the ground, but he couldn't exactly take cover in the state he was in. _

He crawled, slowly making progress. He didn't care if Greer and Turner shot him for his efforts. He was going to get cover one way or another. 

… 

In the end, Mac helped those that brought him into this situation. He knew that deep down he was always wired to help people, no matter how they treated him. It was just like that time in fifth grade where he helped one of the girls in glass just for another girl to kick him because he did the right thing. This felt like fifth grade all over again, but this time the stakes were higher and Mac knew that it was about survival. 

_ He just hoped and prayed Jack was going to come to his aid soon. _

And then Mac finished making his bullet and pen air rocket and hoped for the best when he launched it at the guy currently shooting at them. The movement pulled at his broken ribs, and once the makeshift dart was in the air, Mac leaped to take cover. And once he hit the floor, hard, a new kind of agony spread down his side. He was too tired and too much in pain to move so he stayed there. There was more gunfire in the hall, and heavy boots, like the ones Phoenix TAC teams wore, but Mac couldn't focus through the dull thudding in his ears. 

There was someone calling his name, sounding vaguely like Jack, but he couldn't concentrate through the pain. 

…

Jack was going out of his mind with worry. They had yet to find H é ctor Ruiz, but his heart and head were somewhere else. With the kid that looked so miserable when Jack last saw him. He was tired, clearly hadn't slept, and the dark bags under his eyes ran deeper than what Jack remembered them looking before. Several things happened in the last few weeks, and Mac was still not fully recovered from either. The VX poisoning, stabbing himself in the leg to prevent the spreading of the gas through his bloodstream, and losing one of the people he was trying to save… it took its toll on the kid. And finally, the mission that landed him where he was right now. 

Jack didn't want to let his brain wander, it never led to good things whenever Mac was concerned, but he couldn't help himself. This one was on him. If he just connected the dots that someone moved the brick he used to jam the door, they wouldn't end up like this. Jack doubted the bad guys would have left George Ramsay alive either way, but he should have known that things were fishy. 

And now his kid was charged for murder and domestic terrorism and stuck in a cold interrogation room. 

Jack couldn't wipe the picture in his head of how Mac looked when the cuffs were snapped on his wrists. He looked sad and scared, and Jack watched, helplessly, as he was whisked out. And undoubtedly some of the neighbors saw the commotion in front of the house. Jack knew how nosy they were regularly, and the last thing he wanted was for them to see Mac as a criminal. Nothing he could do about that now, though. 

What he could and he would do was to find H é ctor and prove his kid's innocence. He wasn't a damn lawyer but he sure was going to find a way to prove LAPD wrong. 

Right now he wanted to punch something. Or someone. Ruiz was just out of their grasp. And then Riley discovered the printer. And once they realized why H é ctor Ruiz needed a police access card, Jack's world stopped.  _ Mac was in danger. _

…

Jack drove like a bat out of hell, never taking his foot off of the gas pedal, barely paying attention to traffic. It was by sheer luck that they didn't crash on their way over to the police station. Sam was holding on to the handle of the passenger side door on the GTO. Jack never gave his driving much thought, everyone was kinda used to how he was driving. Cage was something else though. 

Once they were in front of the station, Jack had to stop himself from barging in. Matty was supposed to call it in with the precinct and if they didn't want to get killed for going in, guns blazing, Jack was forced to wait. Once they got the green light, Jack was the first to get in. Riley got access to the cameras and could tell them the detectives took Mac to the basement and that H é ctor Ruiz followed them a few minutes after. That was also fifteen minutes ago and everything could have gone to hell in such a short time. 

When they arrived at where Riley said she saw Mac was led to last, Jack stopped. Dust was flying everywhere and the body of H é ctor Ruiz was lying on the floor. The two detectives that were on Mac's case were coming around. Mac wasn't in sight. 

And then Jack saw him. 

More like he saw _ the blood. _

Jack gasped at the sight.  _ Mac wasn't moving. _

“Call 911!” Jack yelled as he slid to the floor after he shouldered his rifle. He gently touched Mac's neck and after he felt the pulse underneath his fingertips he exhaled in relief. It didn't change the fact that his kid was bleeding, but he was alive. 

“I'm sure it's nothing. He was f-” one of the detectives spoke up, but stopped as Jack turned Mac around and they both saw the bullet wound at the same time. 

“Oh, shit.” the other detective exclaimed, but Jack put them as background noise. Mac was more important. 

Mac was still unresponsive, but he was at least breathing. 

Jack took a good look at the bullet wound. After some light manoeuvering he discovered no exit wound which meant the bullet was lodged somewhere in Mac. 

He opened one of the pouches in his vest and pulled out gauze. He ripped the package with his teeth and carefully extracted the gauze. He placed it on top of the wound and pressed, hard,with both hands. 

Mac groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

“Hey, Mac. I'm here.” 

Mac struggled to focus to locate where Jack was at the moment, but once he had those blue eyes trained on Jack, Jack sighed in relief. 

“I'm here, bud. I am not going anywhere.”

“Wha' happ'ned?” Mac slurred his words a bit. 

“You got shot, hoss. I am trying to stop the bleeding but it's leaking all over the place.” 

“I trus' y'u. You came.” 

Mac sounded like he didn't expect Jack to come for him and Jack felt a pang of hurt. Hurt over how many times Mac was left by people that whenever something like this happened, the ugly insecurity was back. Mac feeling insecure was something that always rubbed Jack the wrong way. It took Jack a while to realize, but once he penetrated the walls Mac had put up around him, he still had yet to figure out a reason why someone would willingly leave Mac. 

“Of course I did, Mac. I'm always going to come for you if I'm able.” 

Mac nodded and then yelped as Jack removed one of his hands to take another pad of gauze. 

That's when he noticed Mac's hands were still handcuffed and he turned around to glare at the detectives. He was spitting mad. 

“Give me a key for these cuffs, now!” 

Jack was aware he was barking orders to someone that wasn't even employed by the Phoenix, but he couldn't give a damn. Not with the way Mac looked like death warmed over. 

One of the detectives circled around Jack and when he approached to remove the handcuffs, Mac flinched and recoiled, which resulted in him hissing in pain afterwards. Jack didn't understand why Mac was acting like that. He was vibrating under Jack's hands. 

Once the cuffs were snapped open Jack took one of Mac's hands in his and squeezed before he returned to keeping pressure on the wound. He looked at the blood he left behind on that pale hand, but shook himself out of it.

It was to the side, not too far from Mac's rib cage, and Jack when he placed his hand on top of the other felt something shift. At first he thought that he accidentally pressed harder than he should have and did something to Mac. 

“Cage, c'mere and keep pressure on the wound. I need my hands for a moment.” 

“Sure thing, Jack.”

Sam settled in on Mac's left side as Jack shifted and started palpitating around Mac's ribs. Mac groaned and then yowled as Jack reached the place where he felt the shift. It was one, possibly two broken ribs if Jack was right. 

Anger bubbled inside him. He wanted to open Mac's shirt and see the extent of the damage, knowing something must have happened in the meanwhile, because Mac had no busted, cracked or broken ribs at home. 

Mac looked at him, occasionally moaning in pain when something twinged in pain, and Jack wanted to take all his pain. Only for his kid to not hurt. 

“What happened, kid? What happened?” 

Mac closed his eyes and Jack realized that he was crying. He reached to wipe the tears away, but the only thing he did was to smear blood on Mac's cheeks. Jack had no idea about the tears. Was Mac scared of something? Was he hurting more? Was he hurt somewhere else Jack couldn't know about? 

Quiet Mac was always worrying. 

“Mac, you have to tell me what happened? Can you do it?” 

Jack had a pretty good idea about what actually happened, but he wanted Mac to confirm. He needed Mac to ground him, because if he took his hands off of Mac, he would have done something stupid. And Mac didn't need that. 

_ Just breathe, Jack. _

“You can tell me everything, you know that right?” 

Jack was getting desperate, and it must have shown on his face because Mac gulped and after a cautious look at the detectives in the corner, he tapped for Jack to get closer to him. 

Mac wasn't making much sense at first, but as he continued telling Jack what happened, Jack became progressively angrier. He was livid. 

He knew about the tactics when someone was suspected to be a terrorist, he had to do it himself, even though he despised that and wasn't proud of that period of his life. True, he was always punch first, ask questions later kind of a guy, but after that one time too many, he wasn't about to hurt someone deliberately to get answers. Unless they were really a bad guy and someone he cared about was in question. Then everything was off limits. 

“Jack?” Mac's raspy voice brought him back to reality. 

“Yeah, hoss.” 

“Please, don't leave.” 

“I'm here, I'm here.” 

Mac settled in and despite the pain he was in, Jack being able to see the frown lines and the dip of Mac's lip that meant he was hurting a lot, but tried not to show it. 

“Shh, help it's on its way, Mac. You just hang on.”

Jack glanced at where Cage was keeping pressure on Mac's wound, but she was getting tired and her hands were shaking slightly. 

Jack tapped her on her arm to get her attention and when she looked up, he could see she was shaken up as well, although she covered it well enough. 

“Let's trade places. I got this.“ 

They switched again and as Jack applied pressure on the wound and felt the blood leak under his palms, warm and crimson, he couldn't help but let his thoughts stray to that dark place in his brain where he was reminded that Mac was bleeding out and he brought Mac to this situation. 

As if his partner was able to read his mind, he felt Mac's hand close over his and squeeze. 

“It's not your fault, Jack.” 

And Mac looked like he genuinely meant it. Jack had once again wondered what he did to deserve Mac in his life. And how he failed to protect him.

“Not. Your. Fault.” Every word was punched out by a cough and Jack's heart seized. Coughing wasn't good. 

Thankfully, the paramedics arrived just then. 

…

They had to work around Jack, because Mac hanged on to Jack's hand and almost had a fit when they tried to make Mac let go. 

Jack moved next to Mac's head to give them space to work, while he still had Mac's hand in his, blood be damned. He wasn't going to let go. 

Once Mac was stabilized and they placed him on a gurney, Jack finally registered all the blood on his hands and on the floor. He wanted to be sick. But it had to wait for after. His top priority was always Mac. 

As Mac was wheeled outside, Jack turned around and glared at the detectives, Greer and Turner, he remembered their names now. 

“After this is over, we are going to have a talk.” 

He left the threat hanging around in the air. It could wait. He had a kid to take care of first.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
